


Yippie Kayak

by ProHeroMidoriyaShouto



Series: BNHA BUT B99 [2]
Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV), Kung Fury, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: DO NOT POST TO ANOTHER SITE OR APP, F/F, Gen, M/M, Todoriya, attempts at brotherly bonding between guys who dont know what that is, maybe more action-y but no excessive blood and gore or anything, momo loves... le blackmail, momo/tooru, natsuo wants a new dad too, not on full kung fury levels of violence this is b99 complaint, some dad orca, tododeku - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2019-12-20
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:36:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21870019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProHeroMidoriyaShouto/pseuds/ProHeroMidoriyaShouto
Summary: Shouto, Momo, and Natsuo are involved in a real-life “Kung Fury” situation while off-duty on Christmas Eve, and Gang Orca must intervene before an impatient Hawks makes a rash decision that puts everyone at risk. Shouji, Tokoyami, and Hagakure go to the beach.
Relationships: Hagakure Tooru/Yaoyorozu Momo, Midoriya Izuku/Todoroki Shouto
Series: BNHA BUT B99 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1575565





	Yippie Kayak

**Author's Note:**

> Second fic for the BNHA X B99 Mini Bang! Tried to have fun with characters I wouldn't have chosen otherwise and build up friendships I like but don't tend to see. 
> 
> Art for this fic was made by mintystea (tumblr)!

It’s a picturesque winter morning in Musutafu. The sky overheard is a blue pewter that stumbles the morning into her lap like it missed a step on the stairwell, the horizon yet painted in midnight indigos and broad strokes of noctilucent clouds, pastel fuchsias rushing to fill the shades of miscalculation between them. It's a beautiful day.

Momo settles into class earlier than most, but today she is even earlier than strictly necessary. Tōru’s complaints last night about missing their shared hot cocoa cut deep—passing the All Might-sized mug to the girl in her lap in exchange for kisses had quickly become an all-important pastime—but it is Momo’s belief that sacrifices must be made for the greater good.

She can always make it up to her girlfriend on movie night. If she cuts through the general department after class, she can claim the loveseat in accordance with the International Dibs Protocol and avoid getting another citation from Tenya. He takes speed-related losses especially hard, and now that he is making moves to win Ochako’s heart, he is being—quite honestly and with minimal disrespect—an outright bitch. But that’s a bridge to burn after classes, in her flame-retardant costume.

With an hour before the bell, the only other people in the building are fellow early risers and the teachers. Tenya is writing furiously at his desk, entombing himself in perfectly rolled paper balls, exhaust practically puffing out of his pen as he writes and re-writes “anonymous” love letters. It’s the usual sight these days. He’ll inevitably panic as others arrive and when Ochako herself appears he will seemingly vanish into thin air, picking a letter at random and slipping it into her locker while disposing of the evidence.

Momo wishes well for them both—as perceptive as he can be, Ochako’s own attempts at flattery fly over his head much of the time, so when they’ll finally work up some nerve and simply hash things out is anyone’s bet. (Momo’s seed money is on New Year’s, but her real stake is on White Day. You have to lose money to make money.)

Izuku is at the front of the class sketching something she is hesitant to call the Vitruvian Man, with a lion’s face and either knife-feathers or diseased fingers in place of the hands, talking a mile a minute to Shouto who looks like he’s on the verge is passing out. He titles his masterpiece, “The face of god?” and half walks half carries Shouto to his desk before he collapses in the foyer.

Shouto’s head hits his desk with a loud thump and were it not for their years of acquaintance, she’d write him off as dead or soon-to-be or full of saltwater taffy on the inside. Evidently, staying up past 11:30pm to listen to Izuku’s murder mystery programs and his subsequent theorizing followed by awakening at 3 am to join him on his 5 am workouts has proven too much for someone who has such an active love affair with sleep. He’s snoring in seconds and she’s feeling particular marvelous this morning, so she’ll wait until the start of class to give him a kick to the shin and see how that goes.

Izuku is his usual upbeat self and before she knows it, they’ve lost twenty minutes discussing isotopic analysis of deuterium—which is destroyed within stars faster than it is produced and they will probably talk about it the rest of their lives—and debating whether Cesare di Lorenzo Cesariano or Albrecht Dürer had a better interpretation of the bodily proportions and philosophy on the subject of objective beauty as depicted in the original Vitruvian Man.

Ectoplasm pops his head into the room and calls Tenya to join him in the teacher’s lounge—likely to spare him the embarrassment of having to explain why he signed his last assignment “Uraraka Tenya” in front of their class—and pops out again just as abruptly. She wonders if he bounces from peg-leg to peg-leg when he does that. How does he maintain his balance on such a small surface area anyway? The bottoms must be lined with material to provide traction…

This sight of Ectoplasm livens the spark in Momo and she is almost vibrating out of her seat with anticipation. Her meticulously thought out plan is flawless. Fool-proof! Bastard immune! There’s no way it can go wrong. So much is riding on the success of her plan she could have a _kitten_ the suspense is killing her! Any minute now…

“Uh, you okay?” Izuku asks. He’s slumped over the back of the chair and rolls his chin on his crossed forearms, his gaze lingering on his boyfriend’s Sleeping Beauty impression and lolling to her like a lovesick lazy-susan with only a faint semblance of the household consideration. Not that she can blame him- she is notoriously excitable over well-made plans and watching someone as composed as Shouto make a drool puddle on their desk in real time is a sight to behold.

“I’m about to give Ectoplasm his gift!” Momo is not too proud to admit that she squeals a bit. At the beginning of their third semester, Ectoplasm had extended her an internship offer. While Momo is certain she’ll be formally accepted, he also has second and third years vying for the same limited position on a tighter overall timeframe so there are no guarantees.

The things she is wouldn’t give to work with a fellow mathematical genius! So few pros approach academia parallel with their careers, the experience will be most valuable to Momo as pursuing further education is not a question of ‘if’ but ‘where.’ The best of both worlds will be to match her family expectations with her own career prospects. Statistically, the most successful agencies are managed by heroes with post-secondary degrees. Her parents also insist on a having a safety net if heroism doesn’t work out long term—they treat it as a passing fancy, but Momo is certain that nothing short of debilitating injury will force her out of the field. Even then, Ectoplasm stands as a prime example of a hero going beyond that limit.

“Oh.” He blinks owlishly. “Did U.A. lift their ‘no gifts’ policy?” He whisper-shouts, bouncing on his heels. Izuku would certainly like to get All Might something for the upcoming holiday, maybe Aizawa-sensei too, but she’s quick to stifle that dream.

“No, no.” Momo is still only a first year, and made a poor showing at the sports festival which is surely a considerable detraction even in light of the progress she has made since then. Getting this internship requires more than simply abiding by an invitation. A good house guest brings their own dish to add to the potluck, after all. “But! I figured out how to make him something and trick him into accepting it.”

He huffs at that, his own plans dashed as quickly as he could begin conceiving them. Then he covers his mouth with one hand and giggles. “_You are bad_.” He says conspiratorially.

“I know, right?” She grins but his returning smile is a twitchy uneven line that lets her know he’s disingenuous. “Oh, you’re making fun of me.”

He hums the affirmative and raises his eyebrows as if to say _what are you gonna do about it?_ but doesn’t make to interrupt so Momo continues to her run down if only to share the glory of her plan, moments away from perfect execution.

“He would never open a gift, but what if his gift didn’t look like a gift?” Even her eyebrows are wiggling in her excitement! She must look ridiculous!

“He would open it?”

“Exactly!” Momo can’t help the way her voice rises and catches Midnight’s attention. Worried that she’ll come investigate what the fuss is about and blow her cover, Momo resolutely does not turn her way when she enters the 1-A classroom.

Luckily, she’s distracted by Shouto’s slumbering form before she reaches Momo and expresses fascination in his degree of unconscious. Midnight produces a small recorder from her capris and a form of litmus test strip from her tank top and busies herself conducting some kind of test on their unknowing classmate that they’ll all probably regret during the next combat lesson. Oh, small mercies.

Momo releases a tense breath and rushes her explanation to avoid being overheard. “Okay, so I left it in a cardboard box on his desk. There’s no card, just the words, ‘open now’ which I wrote in my wrong hand so he wouldn’t recognize my hand-writing.” Any moment now, Ectoplasm will encounter the gift on his desk in the lounge and Momo will be in the clear and that much closer to her internship.

Izuku’s eyes are downcast and he’s taken to pulling at his lip like when he’s nervous. Why would he be nervous? Is it something she said?

“S-so, just to recap.” His hands fumble around in his costume case and he’s putting on his air force gloves in quick, erratic movements. He isn’t going to use them here is he? What could have him so rattled? …oh, Shouto said he was vague asking for help in dangerous situations—was this one of those? Momo surveys their classroom with critical eye. What has he seen that she hasn’t? “You left an unmarked package on a hero’s desk on a random Monday with a suspicious message on it that looks like it was scrawled by a crazy person.”

“Mm-hmm.” And wasn’t it perfect? The other teachers might even be a little jealous. _Hoho_, make fun of her he might, but Momo is feeling especially devious. She’s pulled a fast one on the teachers! If this doesn’t help her case—

“BOMB!” Ectoplasm’s voice roars through the hallways. “THERE’S A BOMB!”

Midnight drops everything and pulls a hidden alarm in the wall by the door, setting off sirens and flashing red lights before talking off after her colleagues, trusting the students to follow her without prompting.

Shouto jerks awake with blood-shot eyes and reflexive icicles—there’s a whistle and a gush of vacuum at her back and then things are moving very fast. His shoulder crashes into Momo’s belly hard enough to knock the air out of her and they rise, glide, and shoot out through the windows into the open air.

It’s only as she’s hacking for breath that she realizes Izuku is over his other shoulder in the same situation. It’s only when she notices the sparks that she realizes they were not torn up by countless glass shards and metal framework, which means he reacted the exact second before Shouto moved with his ice, and cleared the way for them. She’s envious of their level of unity for a second before the exasperation sets in.

No! This isn’t how it was supposed to go! She’d thought it through! The box—_the box_. Her plan. Momo is Number #1 academically in their class, how could she have been so stupid?!

It seems like forever when it’s been all of ten seconds and they’re losing momentum when an actual explosion _does_ shake the building. Smoke and debris billow out the hole left in their wake and students’ screams can be heard even over the rushing air around them.

“But it wasn’t a bomb!” she yells. She turns to Izuku, pleading for him to believe her, she isn’t a traitor, she would never—

And Izuku has a look in his eye she isn’t familiar with, cold and irate and tired in equal parts. He yells over the noise, “Did Mei help you at any point?”

“Yes!” Hatsume Mei had volunteered when she heard Momo’s request to build a new prototype for Ectoplasm. She was the one they all went to—not Momo, given her families direct connections but—

“Well,” he says as his quirk fades, “sorry to say this, but I don’t think you’re getting your internship now.”

_Huh?_

The look he gives her is one of comradery and pity. The look of someone who has experienced this exact situation before and proceeds to bear witness to another’s initiation into the same limited club.

_Oh. OH._

“GODDAMN IT!” She yells into the cold morning air.

At least she isn’t on the cold side.

Small mercies.


End file.
